


Songs of Love

by JJCross



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Barricades, Character Death, M/M, Songs, pining old men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-24
Updated: 2014-09-24
Packaged: 2018-02-18 15:39:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2353658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JJCross/pseuds/JJCross
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Javert struggles with his feelings after Jean Valjean lets him go free from the barricades. He realizes its not only hatred that's been in his heart all these years. (Featuring the songs IN MY LIFE, ON MY OWN, and A LITTLE FALL OF RAIN)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. On My Own

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a long time ago and published on fanfiction.net, but rereading it and fixing it up a bit, I realized it wasn't as bad as I thought xD Hope you think so too!

“You’re free to go. Now get out of here,” Jean Valjean said, his eyes steely as he stared at Javert.

Javert didn’t understand; he really didn’t. How could this man—this ex-convict—let him free? Javert had been chasing him for years, merciless and relentless, threatening time and time again to throw Valjean in jail without a second thought. But here was the jail-bird's chance, basically given to him on a silver platter, to be rid of the nuisance and danger of Javert, to finally win and take what was his…and he was letting Javert go.

“I don’t understand…” Javert said, rubbing his wrists where the bonds had bitten harshly into his skin. “Kill me. The right is yours, just do it!”

“Get out of here, Javert,” Valjean said, his voice low and controlled. He tucked the knife he’d used to release Javert away. “Just go. I have no grudge against you. You’ve only done your job. You’re at no fault.”

Javert scowled and glared at the ex-convict. A pain stabbed at Javert’s chest, igniting an unfamiliar feeling within the man.

When Javert had been tied up, his hands restrained, his neck held by the rope, he’d felt helpless and defeated. But he’d also felt a sense of honor; he would die on the line duty, like a true soldier, and more than that, he would die doing what he knew was right. These stupid boys, fighting for some lost cause, were the rebels, the criminals who would kill a law-abidding officer. This gave Javert pride in the face of death and a sense of peace in the mist of chaos.

Javert had focused in, ignoring those around him, dwelling in his thoughts. Certain thoughts beat out others despite Javert trying to focus on relevant issues. But when faced with death, no matter how proud or brave the man, he shall think of things precious to him. Man shall remember things that made him happy, people or events in life he cared for and realized he'd never see again. Javert found himself thinking of M-sur-M, of gentle brown eyes and large charitable hands that passed out alms...He unconsciously wished to see this face again.

His wish was granted as if by some miracle of fate. It was destined, it must have been. What else would you call it when Jean Valjean suddenly appeared in the barricades-this exact one!-and asked for Javert! The Inspector had tried to remain impassive, to keep his mind and heart controlled and prepared for the inevitable death that was to come, but he couldn't smother the glow. The warmth that burned and popped inside him at the sight of the old man, the man he had longed for, and the man he now hunted. When Jean Valjean asked the young revolutionary leader for the task of killing Javert, the Inspector couldn't help the bubble of irony he felt, couldn't help the snort of laughter. Javert, who dreamed of seeing a kind mayor that did not exist, instead getting the true man, who was nothing more than a lying criminal, ready to kill him. The convict had won then, in the end, and it would have made the perfect ending to their battle. Valjean was going to be the one to take his life, he who had taken Javert's heart all those years ago.

Now…Javert wasn’t so sure what he felt.

“24601…”

“My name is Jean Valjean,” the ex-convict correctly quietly, his voice soft, almost soothing. “Please refer to me as such.”

Javert looked at the old man mildly and shook his head. “No…you will always be a convict to me…a traitor, a criminal, a thief.” The last name held a special, stinging place in the Inspector’s heart. “You’re a liar…pretending to be the mayor, acting noble and good when you were a wolf in sheepskin…a person’s true colors always shine through, and I saw right to your rotten soul.”

Javert hung his head, hiding the hurt and anger burning in his eyes. He had trusted the mayor, looked up to the mayor. When he had discovered he’d made a mistake in accusing Madeleine, he had seen the mayor in a new light, as a saint and a good man, the kind of man Javert was always trying to protect and preserve in this corrupt world. He’d revered the mayor, wanting to talk with him as often as possible, making excuses to see him in his office and joining him on walks. But then Madeleine confessed to being Jean Valjean, and Javert’s world crashed around him. “Liar…thief…” Javert spat. “Just kill me! I can’t bare to think of you wandering the streets! If you let me go, I will not be merciful; I will continue to hunt you down and I will see you behind bars.”

Valjean looked to Javert, his eyes sad, almost pitying. He walked towards Javert and put a hand on his shoulder. “I know…I’m sorry, but I’m not the horrible man you believe me to be. I’m letting you live, no bargains or deals.” He smiled sadly and Javert wanted to smack the man’s face.

Javert ignored the thoughts shouting in his head and turned, hurrying down the alley. A shot from a gun wizzed by his head. He turned quickly; Valjean had the gun aimed. Their eyes met briefly and Javert ran off.

…

The inspector hadn’t gone far at all before he stopped running and leaned against the side of a building. Thick gray clouds were building up in the skies above, blocking the sky and hanging heavily, ominously.

Javert shut his eyes and shook his head. “ _What’s the matter with you, Javert_ …?” he muttered to himself. “ _Have you been too much too much on your own_?” All Javert’s life, it was just him. No support, no friends, no family. He’d struggled, never making any ties. Now this convict comes along and all Javert’s thoughts and decisions focus around him. Javert put a hand to his chest and clenched at the fabric. His heart was beating erratically, a heart that was supposed to be steady and strong, made of cold stone. “ _So many things unclear…so many things unknown_ …”

What were these thoughts running through his head? What were the feelings churning in his heart? Ever since he’d met that kindly old mayor, his world was upside down. He couldn’t decipher between right and wrong as easily as he once had. Good and bad had been like black and white to him, but now suddenly everything was grey. Suddenly Javert didn’t know if Valjean was the villain or the hero. All that ran through his head was Valjean; his mercy, his kindness, his, voice, his face, his eyes, his touch, his fingers, his chest, his smile, his lies… All Javert could feel was the hurt and betrayal and the loneliness.

Javert looked to the skies, wanting guidance from the stars, but the clouds hung angrily overhead, blocking him from wisdom, leaving him cold and alone. Then suddenly the skies broke and the clouds released the rain, pouring down over the Inspector’s head. His hair feel onto his forehead, water soaking through his uniforms and dripping heavily from his nose, lips and eyelashes. He blinked, and water trailed down his cheeks like tears.

“ _On my own…pretending he’s beside me_ ,” Javert spoke, his voice soft as he stepped away from the wall. The rain poured down. “ _All alone, I walk with him till morning_.” Javert’s feet moved as though acting on their own, aimless. He wasn’t looking ahead of him, not really. His mind was on his walks with Madeline in M. sur. M, talking mindlessly, simply content to be beside the man. “ _Without him, I feel his arms around me, and when I lose my way, I close my eyes and he has found me_.” Even after Madeline was revealed to be Jean Valjean, even when Javert was filled with humiliation and rage, he desired to see the man. He searched fervently, not only because Valjean deserved to be in jail, but simply to see the man, to speak to him. His breath would hitch whenever he’d catch word of the convict at pubs, bars or from gossip. His dreams had been invaded by Valjean, his waking thoughts contained the old man and even now….Javert was resisting the urge to run back to Jean Valjean…

Javert glanced around him as he walked, slow and steady, similar to his steps at the tops of buildings when he was testing the fates. “ _In the rain, the pavement shines like silver. All the lights are misty in the river, in the darkness the trees are full of starlight and all I see is him and me forever and forever_ …” Javert and Valjean…Valjean and Javert. The two seemed to always match together, they seemed meant for each other. There was none without the other, like chaos and order, hate and love, officer and his convict. Javert could barely remember his life before Valjean and he couldn’t really imagine a life without him. That’s what scared Javert the most, that’s why he felt the slightest hesitation when he caught leads of Valjean. Despite his need to see he convict, he wasn’t too eager to throw him behind bars forever. That would mean an end; no more chasing, no more running, no more Valjean versus Javert. Javert’s world would be empty.

“ _And I know it’s only in my mind, that I’m talking to myself and not to him_ ,” Javert whispered, closing his eyes briefly, imagining Valjean before him. Words swarmed his mind, words he wanted to say to Valjean, whisper in his ear, words he wanted Valjean to whisper to him. Javert shivered, but whether it was from the cold water falling over him or from something else, he wasn’t sure. “ _And although I know that he is blind, still I say_ …” Javert paused briefly, opening his eyes as the words suddenly began connecting in his head, suddenly began making sense. He felt as if pieces where fitting together slowly, as if there was a greater picture hidden behind a layer of fog and grim, which was slowly being wiped clean. “… _there’s a way for us_.”

Javert gulped and he stared at the ground wide-eyed. The pieces were falling together, the picture becoming clearer. His heart pounded, his thoughts running wild. He threw his eyes back and despite the pouring rain, he stared at the clouds, pleading desperately in his heart for the skies to open up, to strike him down before something happened inside him that he didn’t want to happen. He wanted the stars to speak to him, to tell him what he was afraid to find out. He felt his eyes burn, but it wasn’t from the rain. He blinked away the tears and shook his head, shouting into the empty air: “ _But when the night is over; he is gone, the river is just a river. Without him the world around me changes; the trees are bare and everywhere the streets are full of strangers_.” Valjean knew Javert better than anyone, all those walks around town, the few casual conversations they had after police reports; Javert had given more of himself to that man than any other. He was the closest person in Javert’s life, the only one who had managed to break down those solidly built walls. Now Javert is crumbling to pieces; there would soon be nothing left. The Inspector shivered and shook, tears mixing with the rain water. He tugged on his hair and stopped walking, sliding down against a wall as the weight of his feelings became too much. He wanted to stop, to block and suppress the flow of emotions but nothing would stop until it all burst.

“ _But every day I’m learning, all my life I’ve only been pretending! Without me, his world will go on turning_ ,” Javert clenched his teeth and shut his eyes, knowing full well if he died, Valjean wouldn’t bat an eye. Javert was merely a pain in Valjean’s side, a nuisance, always trying to hunt him down, to send him back to hell. Valjean had his daughter, that whore's child, Valjean's pride and joy. He didn’t need Javert, not like how Javert so desperately needed Valjean. Javert had nothing… “ _A world that’s full of happiness, that I have never known_!”

Javert sobbed quietly, the only noises being the pounding of the rain and the drumming of the Inspector’s heart. He was gasping now, out of breath. He was lost and confused and scared. He wanted someone to comfort him, to tell him it was okay. Never in his life did Javert want or need any kind of comfort, but right now, he wanted one person by his side. He wanted this person by his side always.

“ _I love him_ …” Javert whispered the words silently, almost to himself, trying them out. They slipped out on their own, which surprised Javert but not completely. Something about the statement, said out loud felt right. Javert never lied.

“ _I love him_ ,” Javert said, louder and stronger, but still cautiously. Yes, this was right. These were the words he knew to be true, these were the emotions he felt. He knew they were wrong, he knew he shouldn’t feel them, but he knew the futility of arguing with himself about something he knew to be true. He leaned his head back, reveling in the free feeling, as the weight lifted now that he could properly identify his emotions once more.

“ _I love him_ …” Javert whispered as he closed his eyes, relishing the feeling of the words on his lips. He said it to say it now, not to confirm it to himself. It was the truth; he loved Jean Valjean. Not Madeleine, like he had thought, nor just some escaped convict. He loved Jean Valjean, who was all of it; gentle, strong, clever, generous, secretive, confusing...An actualy person, not some saint or monster that only existed in stories.

The rain ebbed some, becoming gentler as the storm in Javert’s heart died away. Javert smiled sadly to himself. Despite the new revelation of his feelings, Inspector Javert felt more alone than ever. “… _by only on my own_.”


	2. A Little Fall of Rain

The rain stopped but the clouds still hung overhead threateningly. Javert sat in the streets somberly, his heart no longer beating fast, but aching none the less.

Javert sighed. “ _How strange. This feeling that my life’s begun at last. This change. Can people really fall in love so fast?_ ” Javert felt his heart beat slowly and contently now at the thought of Valjean, no longer with confusion and anger and desperation. But still there was a sadness.

" _In my life, there are so many questions and answers that somehow seem wrong_ …” Javert was still confused, still unsure. This was an empty love that he felt. It was a dead end. It was an incredible feeling, but it hurt knowing it led nowhere.

“ _Does he see what I see, does he feel what I feel_ …?” He spoke the words out loud but already knew the answer. A feeling tugged in his chest, a small hope that perhaps Valjean had let him live because he had similar feelings. But the small glimmer was quickly smothered by the knowledge that Jean Valjean was a giving man. Javert knew from his time by Madeleine’s side that the old man liked to give to charity, liked to make people happy. That is how he is. Javert was just another charity to him and it was like a knife to the heart to realize it. But still…even in a heart of despair that spark of hope always crawls back, always breathes new life. That’s what love did. Javert closed his eyes and wrinkled his brow, agitated at the strange calmness within him. Despite the hopelessness and despair, love was a balm for it all. The old Inspector sighed, idly wondering when the battle would end and he would see that old convict again.

“ _I’m no longer alone…find me now, find me here._ ”

An explosion sounded in the distance, shocking Javert from his stupor. He jumped slightly and listened. It was faint, but he heard traces and echoes of pops and shouts. The barricades. The soldiers must have finally arrived and were taking care of the traitors. Javert’s mind quickly skipped over the young boys and to the old man that was also in the barricades currently.

“Valjean!” He gasped. He quickly stood and started towards the explosions. He didn’t know what he planned to do, but his feet seemed to be making the choice for him. No one was going to survive, none of the traitors. That explosion had been a cannon. The soldiers weren’t messing around and planned to end things quickly. Javert couldn’t imagine having Valjean die like that, love or no love. They’ve chase after each other for too long; Javert wasn’t letting 24601 die alone or by anyone else’s hand.

Javert was panting as he ran, his feet slipping slightly and water splashing up at he raced into the hell holes. This was against orders, against what he knew his duty to the law was. His only thoughts were on Valjean now though, not the boys, not the soldiers, not right or wrong, not his own safety. Just Jean Valjean…

…

Javert stopped around the corner. Shouts and cries echoed around him, louder and clearer. Gun shots made his ears ring. He turned the corner cautiously but there was no need. The boys were busy with the soldiers, shouting orders, firing their weapons, trying frantically to keep the guard at bay. They scrambled around, desperate and scared, crying and shouting.

Chaos was everywhere, debris flying, wood splintering, the ground shaking. Javert carefully walked deeper into the barricade, no one casting him a second glance, especially with him still downed in civilan clothes. He kept his head low, his eyes darting around, until he finally saw a familiar broad back high on the barricade wall.

Javert’s heart soared at knowing the man was still alive, his chest aching in uncharacteristic joy. He wanted to race over, embrace him, hold him, pull him out of this hell and away to safety.

All these fanciful thoughts drifted away like the crack of a bolt. Valjean was busy helping wounded boys, trying to carry them to safety. He wasn’t paying attention to himself. A lone solider had climbed the barricades. No boy was covering Valjean.

Quickly, without thinking, Javert raced forward with all the speed he had.

“Valjean!” he shouted and the convict lifted his head. Valjean barely had time to look surprised, barely had time to register what he was seeing.

The solider stood at the top of the barricade and Javert saw it in slow motion. The world around him was going frame by frame. The solider closed an eye and took aim at Valjean’s chest.

Valjean was still holding onto a young boy who had been wounded. His eyes followed Javert, who grabbed the nose of the gun and pointed it at his own chest. A loud pop and the world was suddenly in fast motion again.

“Javert!”

…

Javert stumbled backwards, his head foggy. His throat clogged as he made his way down the barricade wall to solid ground. His knees shook uncontrollably but suddenly there were two strong arms around him as he sunk to the ground.

Javert looked up through glassy eyes to see Valjean’s bright eyes wide with worry. He’s worried…? Javert thought to himself. _Why would he worry about me_ …?

“Javert…what—what are you…why did you…” Valjean was stuttering and stammering, his eyes wide and wild as he clung to Javert. Blood was slowly spreading along the front of Javert’s coat like a growing stain. “Oh god…its everywhere…” Valjean was sobbing drily, his breath frantic. Javert watched in fascination as Valjean worried over him. His heart was slow and his breathing was slightly staggered, but other than that he was fine. Valjean was alive. All was well. A soft thunder clap sounded and suddenly the skies broke open yet again, gentler than before, lightly misting Valjean’s hair. The convict held Javert closer, trying to cover the police officer from the rain with his own broad body. Javert wanted to laugh.

“ _Don’t you fret…Monseuir le Maire…I don’t feel any pain_ ,” Javert said softly, trying to stop Valjean’s worrying. The ex-convict’s eyes widened at the use of that old name, the name he’d used when this all started. “ _A little fall of rain will hardly hurt me now_.” Javert did laugh this time. He jerked slightly as the wound made it difficult for air to get through his body. “You’re here. That’s all I need to know.” Javert smiled, knowing Valjean was safe. “ _You will keep me safe. And you will keep me close. And rain will make the flowers grow_.” The words trailed out of Javert’s mouth in a sort of delirium as an overwhelming feeling of joy and ecstasy overtook him, unlike anything Javert had experienced.

“ _But you will live, Javert! Dear god above_!” Valjean cried, shaking Javert slightly. Valjean gazed at Javert’s pale face, glanced at the wound in his chest. He sobbed again and shook his head. “ _If I could heal you wounds with words of lov_ e…”

Javert gazed at Valjean in surprise and confusion, hope buried deep within. They stared at each other for a long time, and Javert saw it. He saw love in Valjean’s eyes. He wasn’t doing this out of charity or kindness, no pity lay in those brown eyes. Just love and fear. Maybe it wasn’t the kind of love Javert felt, or maybe it was…but it was love all the same. How long had it been there, the inspector wondered idly. Could this all have started many years ago? Probably not.

“ _Just hold me now, and let it be_ ,” Javert said, staring at Valjean imploringly, not wanting to regret what could have been, instead wanting what he finally had before him. He coughed and blood trickled down his chin. “ _Shelter me…comfort me_.” The rain fell gently and Javert reached up to wipe a drop of water from Valjean’s cheek.

“ _Don’t you fret…Jean Valjean…I don’t feel any pain_ …” Javert said again, smiling slightly against the tightness of his chest.

“ _A little fall of rain_ …” Valjean said with a slight smile. “ _Can hardly hurt you now_.” He put a hand to Javert’s cheek, tracing small circles with his thumb soothingly on Javert’s hot skin. “ _I’m here. That’s all you need for now_.”

“ _And you will keep me safe. And you will keep me close. I’ll sleep in your embrace, at last_ ,” Javert said, leaning his head on Valjean’s shoulder. Valjean smelled like sweat, wood and gunpowder. Had he always smelled like this? It was intoxicating to Javert as he rested, his heartbeat getting slower. He was getting tired.

Javert smiled to himself, allowing himself to imagine they were alone, somewhere far away. They were not inspector and convict, but simply Jean and Javert. They were together, as they had been forever. Valjean was holding Javert, smiling down at him, simply holding him. They were all they needed in the world and all they wanted. Javert’s heart ached at the dream that cannot be.

“ _And you will keep…me safe…_ ” Javert said, his voice getting quieter. “ _And you will—_ ” He coughed, blood pooling out of his lips. “… _keep me close_ …” He gasped slightly. Valjean held him tighter, urging him to hold on, to stop speaking.

Valjean used his thumb to wipe the blood from Javert’s chin and the corners of his mouth. “Hang on Javert… _I will keep you safe…and I will keep you close_ …” Javert felt Valjean heart beating erratically as he was held closer.

The corners of the younger man’s vision were fading slightly. He looked up at Valjean, his love, and smiled. If only he had known sooner…

“ _And rain…will make the flowers_ …” Javert whispered, Valjean echoing his words as they brought their faces closer, almost as if they believed sharing a breath would keep them both alive. Javert and Valjean’s lips touched, delicately, gently, perfectly, the rain making their lips moist and cool. Javert smiled slightly into the kiss and relaxed.

Valjean pulled back, his eyes opening. His heart was pounded as the body in his arms slackened.

 

“…no…”

Valjean’s eyes grew wide and he shook Javert slightly. No response. “No…no no no, Javert… Javert!” Valjean called but the Inspector did not move. The rain washed over Valjean, his heart tearing, ripping, bleeding. He buried his face in the Javert’s chest, ignoring the blood. Valjean sobbed loudly as the war raged on around him, shouts and cries, gun shots and canon fires echoing around him. But he wasn’t listening. All he wanted to hear was Javert’s heartbeat, that’s all he wanted to listen for, all he could hear. His world was silent.

Jean Valjean sobbed and cried, wishing for more time, wishing he had done something-anything!-to change this. Javert, who was always so honest, so strong and proud. Javert who was like a rock, centering Valjean, a constant in the man's life, always the goal that Valjean wanted to reach. He had wasted time. He had tried his hardest, but it still hadn't been enough.

Jean Valjean kept his face close to Javert, to the man he had loved all these years and who had finally loved him back...only to be ripped away the moment that light had finally shone over them. This love that had been buried for some long, burning so bright yet struggling for life as these two men suffered against each other, finally exploding from within them, only to be crushed. It was not meant to be; the intensity of it was too great. This was a pain more severe than Valjean thought he could bare. He gripped the limp body, whispering gentle words into Javert’s chest, like a prayer or a sad song.

“ _I did not live until today. How can I live when we are parted_?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That song is just so sad, no matter how it's changed or interpreted. My mother cries everything she hears it ;D
> 
> Again, maybe you found it kind of sappy but these two old men are just full of such emotion and unexpressed feelings for each other that things can get kind of sappy when they are finally being open with themselves! Dx
> 
> The Idea for this fic came from obsessing over this pairing while listening to my Les Mis CD none stop :D hoorah! Leave a comment or kudos if you can ^^ tell me what you think! Thanks so much for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Too sappy? Kinda OOC? yeah, i tried to keep Javert as "Javert-like" as possible, fixing it up majorly from what it was originally, but ON MY OWN is sung by a lovesick girl, so Javert kind of might come across as sounding like one...xD
> 
> Please please tell me what you think, if you like it and have any comments! Much appreciated! :)


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